


Pandora's Box

by P4_34_M0



Category: Avatar (2009)
Genre: F/M, Facehugger, Genetic Engineering, Really?_what_the_hell_is_that?, Supernatural Elements, Symbiotic Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-09 00:46:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12265482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/P4_34_M0/pseuds/P4_34_M0
Summary: The RDA left. Jake is alive. Pandora is safe. Life couldn't get any better. Till it gets worse. Now, a strange Warship has contacted Jake with a rather interesting message. Not only that, but an RDA ship equipped with FLT is about to enter orbit, having no idea what has transpired planet side. And with the return of a special someone, Jake's new world can't get any weirder.





	1. A New Begining

**Author's Note:**

> I dropped this because of a disappointingly tiny reader rate. We'll see how it does here.

**T** **hey say that insanity is** **doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result** **every time** **… They may be right** **about me** **. No matter how many time I watch** _**Avatar** _ **it never plays the hidden 3+ hour of canon content I** _**know** _ **are hidden in there.**

**All spelling errors can be blamed on my sticky ‘N’ key.**

  


**Disclaimer: Someone told me that James Cameron keeps the script for _Avatar_ _2_ locked away under this place code named _Hometre_ _e,_ and I know just the man to get it… **

  
oo00O00oo

  


They had said it was impossible, that Faster Then Light ships would rip apart like a pinata in the eye wall of a hurricane. They had said it was utterly unusable, that FTL ships would consume so much fuel, they would need to stop and refill once every light year. They had said that it was madness, that Dr. Colore was text book insane, doing the same thing over and over, expecting a different result every time.

Now? Every space-fairing company wanted in on his invention, and the bidding war was fierce and desperate. Stocks plummeted, owners and share-holders went missing, private armies sprung up over night. Anyone with enough money and a pick-ax was fighting to buy (Or steal) the designs. Throughout all this, Dr. Colore fervently claimed he had built the FTL drive for ‘research and exploration, not off-planet mining’. No one cared. And to make matters worse, the Earth top brass were now stepping in, claiming that a device this powerful should belong to no private company, and that things would calm down if Dr. Colore played nice and handed it over.

Because with the creation of an FTL drive, that Unobtanium rich planet named Pandora was finally within easy striking distance.

  


oo00O00oo

 

_On Pandora;_

  


Jake rolled over in his nest, having trouble finding sleep. Since the destruction of Hometree, the Na’vi Omaticaya had taken to sleeping in the caves and hollows that littered the stones around the Tree of Spirits. It had taken more then a lot of hard work, but everyone was settled in now. Gone were the days when the needs of the children and the wounded would keep Jake and Neytiri operating till the sun was high in the sky. Now, in the early morning, just as the sun was rising over the lip of Pandora’s mother planet, Polyphemus, it was finely quiet. The other clans had left yesterday, returning to the four points of the compass. Peace reigned over the grove. It still felt strange, even after two days permanently in his Na’vi body, to fall asleep and not wake up in a link chamber. He half expected that he would at some point, and all this would have been a dream. But he prayed to Eywa it was not. He loved his life on Pandora. He loved his people, the Omaticaya. He loved his friends back at Hell’s Gate. And above all, he loved Neytiri, his mate.

She was asleep beside him now, little wuffs of her breath tickling the braid that protected his queue. Jake winced. The place where his queue met the base of his skull was still a little sore from when Quaritch had grabbed him by it, but Max (Hell’s Gate’s resident AVATAR and Na’vi expert) had assured him that there was no lasting damage to the delicate sheaf of nerves.

Jake rolled over as carefully as he could, gathering his sleeping mate in his arms. He nuzzled his nose into the hair on the top of her head, drinking in her unique scent. The effect was immediate and potent. A powerful sense of security washed over his exhausted body, calming the palulukan that nipped at his thoughts. When Norm had given him a run down on Na’vi anatomy, he had neglected to mention the importance of scents. Not only was a Na’vi nose hundreds of times more powerful then a human nose, since the transfer his brain had started cataloging scents with over 85.4% accuracy. Max said he probably hadn’t been able to use this ability before simply because his human brain hadn’t been able to process the information.

With a contented sigh, Jake pulled Neytiri even closer, hugging her slightly smaller body to his with relish.

“Jake?” A sleepy voice said in Na’vi.

Jake answered in English, his brain to exhausted to think in the language of his people, “Neytiri.”

Neytiri switched to English as well, albeit broken and disjointed English, “You are awake.”

“Yes, I am.”

“You are thinking of the RDA.”

Jake rested his chin on Neytiri’s head, “Yeah.”

“Skxawng,” She muttered, “The Time of Great Sorrow is ended, and the Sky people have been banished. They will not come again.”

Jake nodded, “I wish you were right. But that’s not how the Tawtut are. They just keep fighting till they’re dead or have what they want.”

Neytiri looked over her shoulder, turning her bright golden eyes on Jake, “You are Olo’eykten, and Toruk Makto. We stopped the Sky People once, We will do it again.”

Jake sighed, planted a kiss on Neytiri’s nose, and said in Na’vi, “I love you, Neytiri.”

Neytiri snuggled closer to Jake, “I love _you,_ Jake.”

  


oo00O00oo

  


_On Earth_ ;

  


Green Colore glanced around the Golden Lotus anxiously, searching for his contact. A hundred other human filled the dive bar, jostling, laughing, and getting stone drunk. Professor Colore was no stranger to these kinds of places, having grown up in the underbelly of New York City. Beside him, his sister slammed her tumbler down on the table, cracking the thick glass cup. One oversized prosthetic hand wiped her lips gently as the other finished the tumbler off, crushing it to dust. Green winced at the sharp _crack!_

“Violet,” He whispered, “The last thing we need is you drawing attention.”

Violet pushed her purple Pixie-cut hair out of her eye, fixing her sharp gaze on Green.

“Getting drunk is hardly less suspicious then staying sober.”

Green ran a hand through his spiky, unsurprisingly, bright green hair, “But far less suspicious then you throwing the bouncer into a dumpster.”

Violet shrugged, “Or that we’re all Bio-auged to eight feet, or Red and Blue being Red and Blue.”

Green glanced over at his brothers, the nine foot tall Red at the other end of the bar and the eight foot Blue standing off in a corner, likely collaborating silently on how they could murder everyone in the bar in under seven seconds.

Violet let the glass shards run through her mechanical fingers, “How long till the Captain shows?”

Green checked his watch, “Ten minutes.”

The Colore sister pushed herself up from her bar stool, making a circular motion above her head with her hand. Red and Blue immediately left their spots and started making their way toward her.

“We should get out of here. Knowing the Captain, he’ll be a minute early, and I don’t want to be in here when he shows.”

Green nodded, pushing the bar door at the same moment it was yanked open. It took a second for the Advanced Assault team on the other side of the door to realize that their intended target had literally walked right into their midst.

The one who had opened the door jammed his rifle into Green’s chin, screaming, “Freeze!”

Green did anything but. Slamming his knee into the shorter man’s solar plexus, Green wrenched the weapon from the his grip, spraying the semi circle of riot shields with a hail of stolen bullets before kicking the weapon-less AAT down the stairs. Violet dragged Green inside, slamming iron door shut to block the rain of bullets. Thinking quickly, Red turned to the stunned patrons and shouted, “RAID!”

The bar erupted into panic as everyone rushed to get out of the way. Glass shattered as AAT members fired in through the windows, indiscriminate in their effort to capture the Professor.

Blue unslung his assault rifle from beneath his coat, returning fire through the windows. The AAT turtled together as Blue’s bullets spattered the asphalt, ricocheting up under their shields. Four of the ten soldiers dropped with shattered ankles before the others could get their shields down.

Violet ripped a door behind the bar off it’s hinges, shouting, “ROOF! GO!”

Green ducked into the door way, scrambling up the ladder that had obviously be built for normal humans, not the eight foot variety that filled it now. With an effort, Green punched the roof access hatch open, staving in the metal and blooding his knuckles. The group burst out onto the roof, and were immediately _covered_ in red laser pointers. Well over a fifty soldiers and at least four AMP suits were on the buildings flat roof, and every gun was trained on the freakishly tall humans who emerged from the access portal.

One of the AMP suits, most likely the commander, switched on it’s external speakers, “DROP YOUR WEAPONS!”

Green, Red, Blue and Violet proceeded to drop their weapons onto the roof. It took a good minute or two for them to un-arm, since Red needed to empty every pocket and they had trouble deciding if Violet’s prosthetic forearms were weapons. But eventually, they had a good sized pile of guns and knives before them, all heavily modified to fit the Colore’s medically enhanced bodies.

The leader nodded, “Now put your hands behind your heads.”

They did.

“Green Colore,” The commander started, then double checked his list, “Please don’t tell me that your names correspond with your hair color?”

Nods.

“That’s just… sick…” The AMP suit pointed to Blue, “And his hair is brown, not blue.”

Blue shrugged, “I dye it.”

“Huh. Anyways, you are all under arrest for withholding information, obstructing justice, illegal biological augmentation and assaulting Officers of the Law.”

Green couldn’t help but hiss, “Only after they tried to kill me.”

Red raised a hand, “Tack ‘First degree Murder’ to the end if you would, please.”

Any and all confusion about this statement was cleared as the Sampson that had been hidden behind the building exploded up into the open, devastating the troops on the roof with it’s door guns. Four power-armored warriors, bio-augmented in the same ways as the Colores, leaped onto the roof. One pitched modified rifles to the Colores while the others lay down a heavy spread of suppressive fire. Soldiers dove for cover as the AMP suits brought their guns to bear, only for the Sampson to shred three of them like confetti.

The shortest of the new humans sprang into the air as soon as he landed. The shallow ark he projected brought him in contact with the canopy of the remaining AMP suit, which he stove in with a kick. Shattered glass rained in on the pilot as he ripped him out of his restraints, throwing him out of the AMP suit. The soldiers quickly leveled their sights on the human, only for the Bio-Aug human to throw himself into the air again. One hand snatched a grappling line that dangled from the drop-bay of the Sampson while the other snapped a smoke grenade from a hidden pocket. The grenade sailed down as the helicopter went up, just clearing the blast range in time. The human hauled himself into the bay, assisted by half a dozen hands. Since only six of them fit in the bay, (and one with the pilot) Red and another Bio-Aug had taken positions on the landing skiffs.

The (comparatively) short human strapped himself into one of the undersized chairs, facing Green.

Green stuck out a hand, “Commander Lenithen Dremis.”

Lenithen shook the hand, “Green Colore. This makes five times we’ve pulled your asses out of a fire fight.”

Green grimaced, “They’re getting desperate. How’s the _Draken_ coming on?”

Lenithen toggled a recessed button on his helmet, disengaging the air tight seals. The million dollar piece of equipment expanded slightly, plates and locks disengaging so the face plate could bloom outwards in three sections, the two side plates sliding back and the top one up.

Lenithen’s face was haggered and exhausted, evidence of the many sleepless nights spent protecting the Colore family. With one hand Lenithen pulled his helmet the rest of the way off, the other he ran through his shock of auburn hair. Lenithen looked young, just a hair over nineteen, but his gray eyes told of unimaginable years, most spent getting to where he was.

“It goes. All we need to launch are your codes.”

Green nodded. The _Draken_ was one of four ships equipped with the prototype FTL drive. All three engines were locked with hundred character passwords that only Green knew, so they would be useless without him.

The Sampson banked sharply, turning it’s heading to due east. The pilot opened a COM channel to everyone.

“ETA _Draken_ launch platform seven minutes,” She fed orbital footage into their helmet HUDs, showing massive amounts of troops gathering at the landing zone, “I’m picking up increased COM chatter at the landing site, the military is onto us.”

Lenithen slid his helmet back on, then passed the Colore’s their corresponding headgear, “All units, get ready for a hot drop. The Colores have priority over everything but lose of the _Draken_ _._ Green Colore has priority over the _Draken_. Raiders and Loon, Halo jump with me at altitude 1 KM.”

Two of the soldier, Dirk Raider(who was standing on the landing skid) and his twin Ryan, signaled their acknowledgment by flashing the green lights in this HUDs. Loon flipped Lenithen off and started checking the solid fuel levels in their suits. The power-armor suits the team wore were eons ahead of anything earth had ever produced, thanks to the genius of the Colores. In addition to bullet resistant, gel-lined body-gloves, the armor boasted over a ton of plated armor and more then a few surprises. One of these were the liquid and solid fuel boosters that were strategically placed around the chest and back. When triggered, the solid fuel boosters would stop the armor’s desent cold, even at terminal velocity. The liquid boosters lacked the punch the solid ones had, but they were good as jump jets or for Anti-G maneuvering.

And so, armed with what was quite likely the most dangerous costume ever created, the four threw themselves out into space. It’s hard to describe what it feels like, to be falling at terminal velocity into a low hanging clouds. The clouds reaches up for you, grasping with wispish finger at your soul, thinking that this fall must certainly be your last. But the cloud was wrong, this was far from their last, and it was hardly their first. The hard, poisoned land of Earth rushed up to meet them as they cleared the clouds, seeking to steal them from the air. Hundreds of soldiers rushed about below, anti-aircraft guns trying to provide some cover from the plummiting messengers of death.

The team flipped their feet to face downward, fired their jets, and landed on the cold tarmac of hell.

  


oo00O00oo

  


_On Pandora_ ;

  


The Na’vi often think of humans as weak, defenseless, and frail. And on most accounts, they were right. Humans don’t have carbon-fiber bones, or eleven foot stature, of even a tail.

But they are resilient. They can dish out and take an enormous amount of punishment under the right circumstances. They also have a sixth sense of sorts, one that allows them to make plans and strategies that hinge on a pin but still work.

But chief among their assets is luck. Not the stupid rabbits-foot luck you get on a fairground, luck that can be defined by mathematical probability.

Jake was a prime example of this. The wrong man, at the wrong time, doing the wrong things, should have died a thousand times. But he lived. When he fell from the Ikran nests, he shouldn’t have caught that root. But he did. The grenade he threw that lodged in the copilots intake, should have bounced into the forest. But it didn’t. The shot Quaritch took while he was throwing the missile should have hit him. But it missed. By all accounts, Jake was the second luckest person to survive the final battle with Quaritch.

And yes, I mean second.

  


Her legs hurt like hell. Her arms too. And her torso, and her-

Fuck it, everything hurt. It all hurt like shit.Fucking shit that some bitch left for a day in the sun. But hey, that’s what happens when a freakin’ missile lands on your head.

The first thing she was aware of was the stick digging into her shoulder. No matter how she wriggled, the stick refused to let up. The second was the light that blinded her the moment she tried to open her eye(The other was sealed with blood). The third was the hand tightening around her throat. _That_ was just plain mean.

The hand dug a little deeper. Strange voices spoke what sounded like gibberish.

 _Not gibberish dip-wad,_ Her fuzzy brain scolded, _NA’VI!_

“Stop,” She croaked, then tried again, “Stop, I’m with Toruk Makto.”

She cracked her eye open, tried to sit up, and realized she was hanging off the side of the Hallelujah Mountains by her belt and shirt.

If she had had the energy to scream, she would have used it to get to the ground and never leave it again. So she did the next best thing. She grabbed the nearest thing to her, which happened to be the Na’vi man hanging in front of her. Both seemed more then a little shocked by this development, but the Na’vi took it in stride, climbing gracefully back up the cliff. At the top, he quickly shed his rider and want to get something.

She lay back in the course grass, feeling the panic induced strength leave her limbs. Yup, one of them was defiantly broken, and what with the being suspended by her belt, she could probably tack internal bleeding to her list of injuries. Water, warm but blessedly clear trickled into her open mouth, loosing her dried throat. She considered laughing in relief, but decided to drink as much as she could.

“You don’t speak english,” She rasped when water stopped flowing. “And I’ll go fuck Quaritch before I say it again to anyone... But... Thanks, you really pulled my ~~ass~~ butt out of the fire there.”

She threw her hand up over her head, “There, I said it. I’m just gonna die now, ‘key?”

The Na’vi laughed, “Wow, you haven’t changed at all.”

She opened her eye in surprise, and instantly regretted it. The light pierced her retina, setting her head on fire. With fumbling fingers, she ran her hand down her side, gripping the aviators she always kept there. Miraculously, they were unbroken. Getting them back up to her face was a different story. She never would have managed it had not the Na’vi seen what she was trying to accomplish and helped her situate the tinted lenses on her face. They were upside down, true, but it was better then nothing.

Once the glasses were on, she could open her eye without blinding herself. Another thing that helped was that the Na’vi was leaning over her, studying her face intently.

She took a deep breath, regarding the native. Despite the blue skin and cat nose, he was pretty good looking. Not drop dead gorgeous, but handsome enough. Not that she could see _that_ well, everything was _really_ fuzzy, like she had had one to many drinks. “You speak english?”

“You must have a concussion. Yeah, I speak English.”

She swore under her breath, “Tree of Souls safe?”

“It’s safe. Jake blew Quaritch to high hell.”

“The RDA?”

“Cleared out and on the way home.”

She took a moment to digest this information.

“I need to get back to Hell’s Gate… the Tawtut home? Can you get me there?”

“It’s a day away, but that’s were we’re going.”

“A whole day? Shit, what do these mountains fly?”

A stupid question, since they did, but the sarcasm made her feel better.

The Na’vi smiled, “Good to have you back.”

If she though she knew pain, she quickly forgot it when the native strapped her in to the Sampson waiting nearby The machine hardly even noticed her weight as it took flight, soaring out over the floating mountain range. After about an hour, She worked up the strength to ask:

“You got a name?”j

“You really got hit hard, huh? It’s Norm, Norm Spellmen.” Was the answer, “You remember yours?”

She grinned a little, memories flooding back, “Trudy.”

  


oo00O00oo

  


Jake’s earpiece vibrated gently on the stone floor of his alcove, waking him from his sleep. Annoyed that the tiny piece of plastic has disturbed his pre-dawn-Neytiri-cuddling, he jammed the earpiece in and strapped the mic around his throat.

“What?” he growled in english.

“Jake? This is Max.”

Jake’s demeanor instantly turned to attentive, Max only buzzed him if it was of the utmost importance.

“What’s up?”

“We need you at Hell’s Gate _now_. Something… Something came up, you need to see this.”

Jake rolled out of his nest, careful not to wake Neytiri, “What is it.”

“I can’t explain, not from here. But you need to see this.”

Jake pulled on his knife belt, slipping to the front of the cave where his Ikran roosted “You said that. What is it? Is it the RDA?”

“No.”

Squinting in the morning sun, Jake whistled for his Ikran, then waited. It didn’t take long for the flying reptile to respond, swooping down from the nearby trees to greet it’s rider. Jake hopped into it’s saddle and a few wing beats later they were off, gliding out over the trees in the direction of Hell’s Gate. Jake breathed in the cold morning air, relishing the feeling of the Ikran in his mind and under his feet.

It was about half an hour to the base, which gave Jake plenty of time to try and pin the suddenly illusive Max down. By the time the base was in sight however, he had had no luck.

Jake circled the base once, then landed in the AVATAR training complex, waving to the driver tending the plants before dashing to the cabin. Since the Hell’s Gate buildings had been, understandably, for humans, the only places that could house a Na’vi were the med-center, and the cabin, where they kept the AVATARs that were not in use. Two on duty AVATARs and Max were sitting on a cot infront of a large screen that had been rigged up in the back of the cabin. On screen was a paused transmission from the _SDAR_ _Draken_ _._ Jake slid onto the cot between Max and a driver he remembered was named Jenna.

“What’s this all about?”

Max ran a hand through his curly black hair, clicking away on a keyboard, “Let me rewind it for you.”

The screen flashed blue for a moment, then black, then focused in on a red haired youth dressed in matte navy blue armor. While a little rough around the edges, he had an air of authority that was undeniable.

“I See You, Olo’eykten Jake Sully. If you’re hearing this, it means two things. 1) You’re still alive, 2) The _P_ _DAR_ _F_ _Draken_ is en-route to Pandora. At the time this message reaches you, we will have an ETA of one Pandora year, six months, and seventeen days. Upon arrival in Pandora orbit, the _Draken_ will release six Geo-stationary, point defense, satellites. They will occupy space above the polar caps and the equator.

“After the satellites are in position, the _Draken_ will split into three ships, the _P_ _DAR_ _F_ _Discord,_ _Harmony, Vengeance_ and _Reconciliation._ _Vengeance,_ _Discord_ and _Reconciliation_ will remain in orbit while the _Harmony_ drops to an altitude of six KM above Hell’s Gate. Once there, we’ll make landfall outside the base, about fifteen KM from the _Harmony’s_ holding position. A shuttle will then ferry a team of ten to the surface. An exact landing sight will be sent to you when we have reached Pandora. After that, we have a few this to, _discus,_ with you concerning the RDA. If you have any questions, a probe should have landed somewhere north of Hell’s Gate. Just upload whatever files you want to send and hit the ‘return’ button. Pandora’s box is open, Olo’eykten, remember that. Commander Dremis signing off.”

The screen returned to it’s usual blue and white, ‘signal lost’

Jake shifted uncomfortably, running over everything in his head, “When did we receive this?”

Max didn’t even look up from what he was doing, “I called as soon as I had watched it once.”

Jake ran a hand down his braid, “Any way to tell what kind of ship the... _Dragon?”_

Jenna corrected him, “ _Draken.”_

“Right, What kind of ship the _Draken_ is?”

Max frowned, “No. But form the description Dremis gave, it sounds like a custom job.”

The screen blinked twice, then displayed a gif of a grining dragon with the words ‘YOU HAVE MAIL!’ and a loading bar under it.

Max looked startled, staring at the gif, “I, uh, forgot to mention that this played before we got the last message.”

Jake nodded, returning his attention to the screen. The bar finished filling and an authentication window popped up, asking for a password. Jake hesitated for a second, then typed on the screen,

‘Pandora’s box is open.’

The screen blinked twice, and the dragon grinned, then laughed silently. A file opened and detailed blueprints flooded the screen, as well as a few 3D models and animations. One of the drivers, Luke, whistled as he seized a Na’vi sized view pad and downloaded some of the information to it. After flipping through some of the plans he lay the pad down, a look of elation on his face.

“My god,” was all he said, “My god, my god.”

Jake snatched the pad, “What? What is it?”

On the view pad, an animation was playing, showing a MASSIVE star cruiser, bigger than anything the RDA had every built, slowly splitting off into four smaller ships, six satellites and a mother base.

“Fuck.” Was all he could manage.

Luke reached over and flipped the screen to the next file. They were weapon diagrams, _hundreds_ of them. Rifles, pistols, grenades, knives, and bows. Luke flipped the page again, this one being vehicles. Once again, AMP suits, tanks, Sampsons, and a gun ship like the one Quaritch had had.

Jake shook his head, “So they’re well armed? So was Quaritch.”

Luke laughed, a little giddy, “look closer at the Specs.”

Jake did, and swore.

All of the tech was sized for Na’vi bodies. From the guns to the tank, everything was supersized and optimized for Pandora’s sentient denizens.

“But why?” Jenna questioned, “Why all this Na’vi sized equipment? We don’t need, or WANT it.”

Jake and the rest spent about an hour checking over the documents, searching for an answer. Finally, Jenna held up her pad, which displayed the title page.

“Just what does PDARF stand for?”

The screen flipped to an unmarked text doc, _“_ _PDARF stands for Pandora Diplomatic, Assistance, and Rescue Force. We are an independent force funded by the Colore family. Our job is to stand as a shield between Earth and Pandora; defending the latter from anything the humans can throw, be it physical or political. In accordance with this our team boasts the best of every thing. From weapons to lawyers, we are well prepared to fight to the death to insure your planet stays free of the corruption on Earth.”_

The screen returned to the title page. Jake took the pad from Jenna.

Jake nodded, “When did the _Draken_ leave Earth?”

“ _By the time you receive this message, the Draken will be one hour and seven minutes out from Earth.”_

Luke did some quick math, “But it takes six years to get from Earth to Pandora.”

Jenna shrugged, “The internal clock must be off.”

It was Maxes turn, “Are you sure of _Drakens_ ETA?”

“ _Positive.”_

Jake was getting confused, “Then how can you get here in a year and a half?”

The viewing pad let out a _pop_ and died, thin smoke rising from the edges. The blueprints on every pad quickly terminated, and in ten second, it would have been impossible to know what had transpired.

Max stared at the screen in silence for a moment, “Is that it?”

“I guess it is,” Jenna muttered as she shifted uncomfortably, “So, What now?”

“Now.” Jake got up, exitig the cabin in the direction of his Ikran, “We wait.”

  


oo00O00oo

  


Norm was worried about Trudy. She had fallen asleep almost as soon as the Sampson took off. Without proper medication, the best Norm and the pilot, a cranky woman who called herself Wanda, had been able to do was pump her full of pain meds and clotting agents, hoping to slow the internal bleeding.

“I ya asks me,” Wanda drawled, flipping her Sampson into a tight turn around on of the flying mountains, “The only what that’s keeping her alive right now is whats ever the hell growing on her face.”

Norm glanced down at Trudy’s face, then shuttered and looked away. Whatever it was, it looked like it was only half grown, bones and veins still poking through it’s transparent skin. A pair a tiny insect wings adorned the sides of it’s body. If it was native to Pandora, Norm had never seen it, or even heard rumors of animals that attached themselves to humans and kept them alive long enough for them to be rescued.

“It may be prudent to _not_ mention it till we get her home.”

Norm nodded, poking it with a pen. It screamed loud enough to deafen Norm for a second. When he got his hearing back, Wanda was yelling at him, which _did not_ help.

“The fuck did you just do?!”

Norm shook his head, “I poked it!”

“If you freaking touch it again I will push you out the door.”

Norm crawled back to his side of the bay, “Moving away.”

Wanda grunted, “And stay there.”

Norm continued to stare at the growth on Trudy’s face, wishing that the unsightly thing hadn’t been blocking the only face he wanted to see. Whatever it was, Wanda was right, it was most likely the only thing keeping Trudy alive. Norm began studying the thing from a distance, watching it undulate and breath. Revelations dawned on him as he realized that what he had previously thought were bones and veins were actually teeth and grasping tentacles. Norm dangled a piece of fruit infront of what he deemed the ‘mouth’. One of the tentacles shot forward and snagged the fruit, neatly popping it into the now open maw. The driver watched in horrendous fascination as the teeth mashed the fruit into a fine pulp, then grew still. After about half an hour, the sludge inside was slowly separated in half, one portion going to what was most likely the stomach and the other half going into Trudy’s unresponsive mouth. The creature did _something_ and Trudy swallowed, only then did it grow still again… till a bug passed, then the tentacles snatched _that_ and the process started anew. The entire thing was more then an oxygen producing membrane, it was a fully contained life support system. That scared Norman even more. Whatever this was, they needed to get it off, and fast.

  


  
oo00O00oo

  


**Well… here we go, the box is open and there’s no closing it.**

**Please give me your thought and ideas on where you think this should go!**


	2. When It rains...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The RDA get under way!  
> (hehehe)

**Well, this is only 2K+ words, but school is a $!@#**

**AN: The count down is in Pandoran time, not Earth time. Also, Earth has yet to receive new of the changed situation on Pandora.**

  


**Answers to the reviews**

**ChocolateTeapot: I had Norm find Trudy because a Sampson is the only thing that would have allowed him to experiment with the ‘Face hugger’ while in transit, and, no sarcasm intended here, it does kind of make sense that the glasses are on upside down since Norm is depicted as a bit of a klutz, as well as being twice the size needed to operate sunglasses. (I’m also a huge TrudNorm shipper :) And yes, the thing on Trudy’s face is _very_ interesting… (Laughing)**

  


**Oldtimer70: Glad you like it!**

  


**Disclaimer: As it turned out, Toruk are better at hunting then digging… Aaaand now they’re trying to eat m- HOLY CRAP!**

  


_Location unknown: Draken ETA: [1] Year, [6] Months, [2] Days._

  


When you puke in space, it is far from pretty. Holly De'orik was known to have a deft eye and steady hand, not a strong stomach. It didn’t help that her transformation was by far the largest of any of the active crews. With the flood of mutagens in her system, war had been waged between consuming the correct amounts of nutrition and expelling said nutrition from her body. From five feet to nine and a half was a massive jump, and while she was looking forward to finally being able to see the tops of peoples heads, it was hell while she waited.

Shar, Holly’s husband, plopped a sachet of black coffee down on her control panel, retrieving a miniature vacuum stashed below her station for this exact purpose. He planted a kiss on her head, glancing about the _Draken_ ’s vehicle bay, noting the disheveled state of the _Sparrow_ starfighter docked inside Holly’s work station.

“How’re you holding up?”

Holly shivered a little, sucking the bitter beverage down with vigor, “Better, I’m going back into stasis tomorrow. Doc said my, eh, problem should be resolved by next month.”

“Have you been to the gravity section lately?”

“I went yesterday. How’re _you_ holding up?”

Shar flexed his muscles, letting the bright light of the maintenance bay play off his powerful, lithe body. If Holly hadn’t had the ability to get such a show on demand, she would most likely have been drooling. Shar stopped his improve gun show with a chuckle, “I’m doing _goooooooood_.”

Holly licked her lips, suddenly nervous, “How do- I mean- I-” She stuttered, finally blurting, “How do I look?”

Shar didn’t even need to give his wife a once over, already being intimately familiar with every detail, both on paper and in the flesh. And he knew what she was asking. Did her new stature upset him? No, and he was taller to match. Did her sharper teeth scare him? No, he loved cooking new, exotic Pandoran dishes for her. The Queue? Tail? Talons? Nothing could ever be wrong, he loved every inch of her, no matter what.

Shar didn’t even need consider his answer, he just kissed her.

“Hey Captain,” Another of the pilots called as he floated by, “I’m not judging here, but Boss said-”

Shar broke off his kiss, leaving a slightly dazed Holly to float away and fumble for her coffee, “-Keep fraternizing for off-duty and Garden time, I know, I know.”

The pilot laughed, “Honestly, I just jealous.”

Holly shook herself and pitched her empty coffee sack into the recycling port beneath her console, "Bleh, I hate that stuff."

Shar pulled a wrench from a tool box, pushing off the bulkhead in the direction of Holly’s ship, _Schakal_. The sleek _Sparrow_ class was one of the only Starfighter line ever created, since there was no real need for personal starfighters. Currently, the slim craft was far too large to Shar or Holly to operate, being configured to fit their bodies only _after_ the modification were finished, but that didn't stop it from breaking down every now and again.

"Any idea what's wrong with the engine?"

Holly glanced over as Shar popped the rear hatch open, exposing the bomb proof anti-matter engine nestled inside. While smaller then the ones mounted to the _RDA_ _Venture Star,_ it was by no means less powerful, capable of outpacing it's bigger cousin in a flat out race. The only problem was that it was impossible, even for someone of Holly's ability's, to react to anything at that speed, so they ran the engines at half speed for everything but intercepting. The engine was the same one that Holly’s previous _Schakal_ had used, just beefed up and slapped in a bigger frame. The _PDARF_ Fighter Core’sLeader, Captain Gray Raider, had insisted that hisstarfighter pilots get ships as close to their originals as possible, to eliminatehaving to learn the upper limits of their machines all over again.

Holly floated after Shar, "I haven't gotten a chance to check yet. I think the auxiliary hydrogen injectors are misfiring, and that's tripping the speed control safeties, but it's not like I can fire up the engines in here.”

Shar messed around with the heatsinks for a minute, then tinkered with the hydrogen injection models.He closed the maintenance hatch, locking it shut before turning to Holly.

"It looks like," He began, "You shook the leftmost injection nozzle loose during that, _impressive,_ landing you made earlier and they didn’t catch it when they swapped the engines over.”

Holly couldn't help but smile as she remembered her last landing aboard the _Draken_.

The fighting above Earth had been fierce and terrible, the _Draken_ struggling to break the gravitational death drip while Earth’s token defense fleet hammered it’s hull with everything they had. Gray’s Starfighter Core had proven invaluable in handling the point defense aspects of launching an unregistered Star-cruiser into high Earth orbit. Earth’s brass had been completely taken aback by the ferocity and efficiency of the tiny two-man and one-man craft, having already turned down a proposal to develop such a fleet, deeming it useless. However, what should have been a turkey shoot quickly turned deadly when one of the Earth Defense Fleet’s ship Captains discovered quite by accident that the tiny fighters were vulnerable to the spray of energy released by the larger Anti-matter engines of the EDF. By utilizing their maneuvering jets, the EDF Captains had been able to turned their ships into interstellar flame-throwers, blasting the tiny Starfighters with the radiation and force of their engine outputs, and effectively throwing them far from the battle. This hadn’t deterred the _PDARF_ long, as the _Draken’s_ on-board computers quickly rounded up the straggling fighters and produced calculations that would allow them to power through the blasts rather then be swept away by them. Holly had been caught by one such blast while attempting to dock with the _Draken_. Only quick thinking and Gray Raider’s _Valkyrie_ _II_ had saved her from becoming a cloud of cosmic dust. While she was rocketing toward the bay at four hundred kilometers per second, Holly and Gray (who was already docked) had flipped their ships so the engines faced one another and fired them at full throttle. The resulting energy wave had fried every circuit in the landing bay, but still slowed Holly’s ship to a survivable speed. The resulting crash completely destroyed the _Valkyrie II_ and most of the _Schakal,_ but both pilots had walked away with only minor injuries, a testimony to the durability of Violet Colore’s designs.

Raider drifted by, eyeing the thrust cones critically, “Pilot,”

Holly snapped to attention, “Sir!”

““At ease pilot. Just thought I should point out that your port thrust cone looks a little warped. Nothing major, but it could impact your turn radius.”

“I’ll look into it sir!”

Holly twiddled with a lock of her brown hair, “Um, I haven’t had a chance to speak with you yet but… no hard feelings?”

Gray looked blankly at her for a second, then laughed, “None at all Pilot, see you in a month.”

  


oo00O00oo

_On Earth: Draken ETA: [1] Year, [6] Months, [1] Days_

  


“It _will_ work!” Dr. Dale Forlack whined in his nasally voice, jogging along through the halls of the Earth Defense Fleet’s ship yard “I’ve run every possible test I can and I guarantee _my_ _engine_ can haul a vehicle the size of the _Venture Star_ at four time the speed of light!”

General Erkhart, of the Earth Defense Fleet, eyed the short doctor skeptically, “Just like the last three models have ‘worked’?”

The short, fat scientist scowled around his hawk-like nose, “Those were incomplete! I had no way of knowing they would malfunction like that!”

“And that cost us the lives of fifteen marines.”

“They should be glad that their deaths went to advancing science!”

Erkhart rubbed his eyes, a gesture that was becoming more and more common the longer he had to deal with the stuck up little inventor. “You should be glad that your life hasn’t been given to a prison cell, pending lethal injection.”

Forlack blanched, “Without me, the scientific community would lose decades of work!”

Erkhart could feel his control slipping, “And eleven families wouldn’t be mourning a lost loved one because you were to stupid to double check your work.”

Forlack drew his fleshy body up to it’s full height of five and a half feet, opened his mouth, and then closed it. The General was glaring at him with that look that brooked no argument.

“This version is perfectly safe.” Forlack wheezed, “Perfectly safe.”

“You better hope it is,” Erkhart growled, sunlight splashing over his face as he and the Doctor emerged from the building and entered the shipyard.

Four _Venture Star_ sized cruisers rested in cradles spanning the entire length of the orbital shipyard. Unlike the _Venture_ _Star,_ however, these ship were being retrofitted for combat. Orbital and deep-space weapons were still at the experimental level, so most of the armaments were adaptations of earth based weapons. AA guns, Mass accelerator rails, and 90MM cannons were the majority of the weapons. The hope was that the ships could reach _Pandora_ and secure sufficient hostages before the _PDARF Draken_ entered the system the set up shop. RDA and the EDF were relying heavily on ground forces as the backbone of their operation, and as such the new cruisers, dubbed collectively _Beta company,_ were packed with every weapon Earth could spare.

Erkhart grinned evilly down at the Doctor, who was breathing heavily and gaping out the windows, “ _You_ are going with them to find that renegade ship. You leave in two months.”

  


 

oo00O00oo

_On Pandora: Draken ETA: [1] Year, [6] Months, [1] Days_

  


Jake cursed as his earpiece vibrated, ONCE AGAIN disturbing his rest. This time however, the incessant buzzing woke Neytiri as well. In a move so human it scared Jake, Neytiri reached over from on top of him and slapped the earpiece, attempting to silence his new pseudo-alarm clock.

“-~-~ng bug.” She muttered blearily in Na’vi as Jake slipped his equipment on, rescuing the earpiece from under her hand.

“Jake here.” He yawned, “What’s up?”

This time it was Norm who answered, “Jake, we need you at Hell’s Gate, right now.”

“Well good morning to you to buddy. For a second there I though you were Grace, what with the ‘do or die’ attitud-”

“It’s Trudy,” Norm blurted, his voice cracking on the last syllable, “She’s alive Jake.”

Jake sat bolt upright, accidentally throwing Neytiri off his chest, “Trudy? What? How! Where is she?”

Neytiri landed on her hands and feet like a cat, eyes wide and searching for danger. She looked at Jake inquisitively, but Jake just waved her off, starting to dawn his other gear.

“How long have you had her?”

“Two days since we uncovered her. We tried to get a hold of you when Wanda and I originally found her, but Luke changed all the com lines. I saw that message by the way.”

“Weird huh?” Jake took his finger off the transmit button, “Neytiri?”

Neytiri had already strapped on her gear, including her own earpiece and mic. She glanced up sharply when Jake said her name.

“Jake?”

“They found Trudy.”

Neytiri hadn’t know Trudy all that well, but she knew that she was a great friend of Jake's, and also a fearless flier. The Na’vi naturally hated the metal flying machines of the humans, but they held a certain respect for the woman who had given her life like so many other for the freedom of The People.

Neytiri was genuinely puzzled, “If they discovered her body, why do you celebrate?”

“Not just her body!” Jake shouted as he ran for the mouth of the cave, “Her! She’s alive!”

Neytiri followed her mate, starting out of long habit to call for her own Ikran before remembering she was dead. Jake’s heart hurt as he heard her usual bird call break off halfway. The ex-marine threw an arm over her shoulder, pulling her into a quick hug.

“Come on,” He intoned, making an effort to remain the more chipper of the duo, “We better find some Pe’li.”

By Direhorse it took them well over an hour to reach Hell’s gate. The sun was just peaking up over the tree tops when Jake and Neytiri rode through the open gates of the semi-abandoned human compound. Their Pe’li’s hooves clacked on hard concrete as the maneuvered between the few remaining vehicles, mostly tractors, dump trucks and the massive mining rig. Neytiri shivered nudging her mount closer to Jake’s. The vehicle yard was cold without the sun to warm it, so unlike the humid, steamy mornings in the jungle.

By the time they reached the AVATAR compound, Neytiri was all to happy to slip off her Pe’li and in to the knee high grass that the Drivers had let grow wild. Much of the compound had fallen into disuse after the RDA left, the only things the Drivers maintained being the cabin, garden, and select pieces of the training courses that had been converted for research. And of course, the basketball court, but that now housed an open air AVATAR sized laboratory on one side and a few picnic tables on the other.

Norm’s AVATAR was seated on the rubberized pavement next to one of the human sized tables, while a handful of Drivers were crowded around an AVATAR sized gurney parked off to the left of said table.

Jake weaved carefully through the crowd of masked humans, going to sit by Norm.

“I see you.” Jake directed the words and accompanying gesture to Norm, who had been accepted into the Omaticaya tribe much the same way Jake had been, but for his valuer in leading the ground side charge instead of for research purposes.

Norm returned the greeting a little distractedly, his eyes never leaving the gurney.

“How’s she doing?”

Norm just gestured to the head of the gurney. Leaning over the stark white bed, Jake sucked in a breath when he caught sight of Trudy’s ‘passenger’.

“The hell is that?”

Norm shrugged, “We don’t know. It seems to have formed a symbiotic relation with her respiratory, digestive, and nervous system. Can’t touch it, and we’re certainly not removing it.”

Jake eyed the pilot sharply, “Two more things. She’s taller then I remember. And is she missing an eye?”

Norm stood, unsteady from sitting so long, “Her eye got infected and we had to remove it. And yes, she seems to have grown six or seven inches.”

Jake tapped his chin with a finger, “In four days?”

“Yup, hasn’t woken up once.”

“Holy crap.”

“That’s a word for it.”

Jake straightened up, lowering his voice, “You’re missing her?”

Norm made a helpless gesture with his hands, “A week Jake. seven days I thought she was dead. I just kept expecting her to show up out of the blue with some smart-ass comment. And we’d be like; ‘Where have you been?’ And she’d say something like; ‘ _Someone_ had to teach the blue-boys how to party!’ And we’d laugh and go back to our normal routine. Then I’d turn around and seen the smoke rising off the jungle and I’d remember she was dead. And now here she is. And I’m happy, but...”

Jake slung an arm around Norm’s shoulder, “You’re afraid your going to lose her.”

“Now that she’s here, I fell like I can’t help,” Norm sighed heavily, “I wish Grace were here.”

Jake nodded, “Me too man, me too.”


End file.
